


Reckoning, a Toontown Corporate Clash Fanfic

by Red_boi1



Category: Disney's Toontown Online (Video Game), Toontown Corporate Clash (Video Game)
Genre: Characters will be added as they appear - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 06:02:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26847097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_boi1/pseuds/Red_boi1
Summary: Elvis Purrsley was many things. A famous musician, a Resistance Ranger, and above all, the one who had taken the Witness Stand-in down in an attempt to save his cohorts. But now he finds himself in a void. One that isn’t particularly empty.
Kudos: 7





	1. An Inky Abyss

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to see more be done with Elvis' character after BTL in TTCC. I am also aware this is the first TTCC fanfiction to exist, so I'll try my best to tell a good story, even though this is only my second time writing a fic.

Elvis couldn’t see a thing. Aside from the black of the… endless abyss? Eh, some poet could probably come up with something better than that. In his honest opinion, being here sucked. A lot.

He was bored, and it was starting to show. He needed something to entertain himself, so he did what he did best, sing.  
It was a piece he came up while he and the gang were destroying the headquarters of Ol’ Blueberry.

At the mention of his little crew, he started to tear up a little.

Elvis had started to warm up to them. Even though he was the butt of all their jokes, he could feel that they were all getting closer, and while he would never tell a soul, he’d actually started to like Rocky as he barked out orders. 

He just hoped they made it out alright. That’s all.

As his mind hesitantly turned its focus away from the group, he was focused back onto the task at hand.

The song. Right.  
Elvis sang a few bars of his newest hit-single “Jailhouse Rock”, to the adoring crowd. That crowd being made up of only a single person. That person, being himself.

As Elvis quickly found out, singing wasn’t very fun when no one's around to hear it. 

However, it eased his mind a little, enough for him to remember that in his hammerspace was his phone! Maybe he could call up his producer, or maybe his dad?

He checked his phone and… 

“No dice, the babe’s got juice but no signal. Bummer…” He’d muttered to himself again, talking to himself was an odd habit he’d picked up while he was in Toontown, but it was a welcome one regardless. No one to really keep him company anyways...

But this gave him the opportunity to do something ridiculous that he’d never do in front of anyone else. He’d die… of embarrassment of course.

He turned on the camera and began recording...

"It's your boy, Elvis Purresley, coming at you from this black abyss! What's up gamers, last time I fired myself out of a cannon at the WSI, and then I woke up here. I dunno, the details are a little fuzzy." He rubbed his face a little, deep lines had set into his face, he just couldn’t get a good rest even though this place seems perfect for sleeping. Nothing as far as the eye can see and no sound at all.

It almost disturbed him.

"I've been here for..." Elvis sets the phone down midair to look at his fingers, so deep in concentration that he doesn't realize that the phone he was holding hasn't fallen to the floor.

"What feels like a couple of days... I think?" 

Elvis' head slumped, muttering to himself before looking upwards at the equally black space above him, "Who am I kiddin’? I don't even HAVE a ToonTube Channel, much less actual followers! I don't know where I am or what day it is! I'm not even hungry... And that's the strangest part!"  
Normally Elvis would be peckish no matter what he was doing, even if he’d already eaten just moments ago. There was a strange fullness in his stomach that felt like he’d just eaten a full course meal, yet he also felt empty, almost hollow.

It was something that bothered him the entire time he was here, he was no Einstein, but he could tell when something was amiss. And this was definitely one of those times.

For example: He noted he couldn’t feel a floor below, and although he could freely walk around, he didn’t feel like he was even affected by gravity at all. There were no walls, no ceiling and nothing else distinguishable to go off of that was worth noting. Everything was a deep, dark pitch black that contrasted with both his outfit and his bright red fur.

He’d spent time pacing in a circular motion, trying to feel for a floor below him. He’d take anything he could get in terms of clues at this point. If he couldn’t see himself, he would’ve sworn he’d gone blind.

“So I’m in space? No, that’s not right I can still breathe.” Elvis had long dropped his accent, he was too worried to maintain it at this point. That, and there was no one around so it was pointless.  
The weightlessness is what confused him the most. Even in a portable hole, he could feel the sucking motion pulling him along like he was in a tube. That force wasn’t present here.

“So is this a dream?… That doesn’t sound right.” That doesn’t work because he’d just touched his phone.

Wait.

Elvis looked back to his phone. Only to note…

It was floating.

The phone was just hanging in the space he left it. 

The pieces clicked into place. Almost too fast.

The weightlessness, the inky abyss, the lack of ANY background noise. He KNEW deep down what happened to him, but he refused to believe it.

“Am I…” The words didn’t come out of his mouth. But he knew the question he was asking himself.

“Hahahaha… Good prank guys! You got me...” Tears threatened to fall from his eyes. For once in his life, Elvis didn’t know what to do. He’ll admit, he's spontaneous. It’s just how he lived, moment to moment, not really thinking about the bigger picture and just accepting things as they come. 

Which is exactly why he came to Toontown in the first place. Business was a little slow that day, he didn’t think they were dealing with the robot uprising...

This HAD to be a prank. He couldn’t be dead, right?

No...

He knew, even as he tried to shut himself off from his surroundings by curling into a ball...

He was dead. And there was nothing he could do about it.


	2. A Single Lose Screw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about a lack of updates, mostly dealing with school right now.

Elvis had been floating for a while now. It felt as though there was a solid ground below him, but he knew there wasn’t really anything holding him in the position he was in. 

He’d already cried himself dry a while ago, however he couldn’t bring himself to uncurl out of the ball he’d made with his arms and legs. 

So he was dead huh? Slowly releasing his grip on his knees, he’d decided to take stock of his situation. So getting out of this place wasn’t an option, no doors or windows or floor to be found.

Just endless black as far as the eye could see...

Was it just him or was the darkness getting lighter? 

Nah, probably just his eyes adapting to the light and all, rhodopsin and all that junk his smarter friends used to tell him during highschool. He’d barely remembered a thing they had said as they almosted talked his ears off, look where that got them, stuck in dead-end jobs like the moron he and his friends had been fighting.

Y’know, he wasn’t actually all too sure on how to feel about the Cogs, he’d just been told there was a job for him to do when business had been slow. In his defense, there wasn’t a lot to do that day. Writing songs had become more of a chore than he could put up with at the time, he hadn’t heard from his dad for a while since he’d been out on one of his longer tours which was just about wrapping up, and he just couldn’t shake the feeling it was all becoming a little stale.

Don’t get him wrong he loved singing probably more than anyone he knew, but he needed diversity in his life. A little change to the formula, so in his tired stupor he took the job, completely unaware of what said job would entail. 

All he’d heard were something about robots taking over a town, which sounded cool on paper, but man! He didn’t expect droves of them to drop out of the sky, eager to loot the town and kidnap people. 

Actually the more he thought about it, why didn’t anyone hear about the Cogs earlier? He’d overheard from some toons that they apparently had multiple cities all over the world, coupled with the boxes in Chief Register Head’s pad displaying the words “COG NATION” in a heavy font, clearly there were a lot more of them out there than anyone cared about.

Doesn’t that seem like a bit of a problem to anyone?  
The more he’d thought about it, the less sense it made. 

But then it dawned on him. How long have people known about this? The job he was given wasn’t even specific enough for him to get a good grasp of what he was really up against. 

Elvis had momentarily taken off his shades to clean them, so what if there was no one around for miles, he still had to look presentable to some extent. Smoothing his hair back into its signature pompadour, he got back into thinking about the situation with the Cogs, choosing to ignore more pressing matters. Like his death.

Someone _had_ to know about the Cogs before they attacked. That was clear to him. There was absolutely no way that they had entire nations the toons hadn’t known about at all. From this idea, Elvis figured someone had known about it earlier, and had deliberately been keeping information from reaching the public.

“The borders up in Northpointe, so THAT’S why they were there! You don’t just place big honkin’ walls right beside a city for no reason! Unless you’re a loon like Robolts.” Elvis gave a long, hard sigh at the thought of the Lawbot chief and what had happened to him. 

Elvis’ friends had absolutely no tact at all when it came to talking around someone. They had believed that he knew about his resignation from the start, when really he’d just barely paid attention and lied through his teeth, hoping everyone else would catch on. Unsurprisingly, Scout had fallen for it hook, line and sinker while everyone else had been left clueless.

They could be infuriating sometimes.

Elvis, gripping his head in frustrati- 

**Ow.**

Why did his head hurt so much?  
Elvis flinched as he ran his hands through his hair. A nauseating wave of pain came to him every time he pressed his hands into his scalp, a stabbing sensation lingered each time after he touched the area. Every time he touched it he felt marginally worse, he almost wanted to curl back up into a little ball and ignore his problems. Kind of like when he was a little kid.

Yeah he’d been a brat who’d needed one heck of an attitude adjustment, but he came out alright. Can’t imagine the kind of torture he must’ve put his dad through though. They had smoothed out their relationship later in life and it was one Elvis could regularly count on if he needed something. He and his father were practically joined at the hip, often calling each other after gigs and work, opting to constantly check up on each other. 

Funny thing is, to him, it was never annoying. His dad cared deeply about him, and that’s all he needed.  
He doesn’t even want to begin thinking about how he is now though. His dad constantly called him when he had gone to Toontown. It was a small comfort of his, knowing he wasn’t alone. Which honestly, besides a couple of missions with the rest of the gang, he mostly was. 

His dad had given him one thing that he cherished more than anything though.

Slipping off his gloves to reveal a hardy pair of brass knuckles, Elvis gave them a long and sorrowful stare. His dad met up with him right before his flight to Toontown to give them to him, a brief meeting and a quick hug turned into full blown sobbing as he embraced his father that day. 

He still gets teary eyed just thinking about it.

Engraved on the palm of the knuckles were the words “ _I’ll always be with you_ ”, something that he’d probably hold onto for the rest of his li-  
Oh wait.

He’s still not taking them off though.  
Sniffling to himself, he pulled his glove back on and wiped away the sudden bout of tears that had managed to cloud his vision during his little stroll down memory lane.  
He settled for just sobbing silently to himself as he thought back to his head injury.

“Oh jeez that looks bad.” Pulling out a mirror to get a better look at his forehead and a bit of moving his hair around, revealed to Elvis that he had gotten a massive bruise covering a small portion of his forehead and a large part of his scalp. 

Elvis’ mental checklist was almost complete, he checked himself over for any other injuries but none remained, he wasn’t even tired. The next step was to observe his environment even closer. Yes, there was an odd cosmic white noise in the background that made him sleepy despite his inability to sleep now, but what unnerved him more was the smell wafting up to his nose. It had smelt mostly of stale air and a hint of something else, something familiar that he couldn’t put a name to. 

And so Elvis began to spin himself in all sorts of directions looking for where this smell could be coming from. After flipping himself over multiple times he had finally found what he was looking for, it was but a speck on a non existent horizon below him, but he could see it. And so he began his trek towards the blue fleck in the sea of darkness. 

It had started with a slow walk, which then became a run. And while the pinprick wasn’t growing in size and he couldn’t tell if he was getting further away or closer with each passing step, he would get there...

Eventually.

Said speck had been stirring, and honestly, Atticus hadn’t a clue where he was.


End file.
